


A Whole Month of Detention

by blackhawkinbudapest



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-15
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-16 09:05:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackhawkinbudapest/pseuds/blackhawkinbudapest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first detention was his fault. The second detention was his fault. Not surprisingly the whole month of detentions to follow were his fault too, but Natasha had to admit, marking her flawless record with a whole month of detentions was the best thing she'd ever done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Whole Month of Detention

**Author's Note:**

> For Jo (mindsofiron). Happy Birthday my dearest. Without you this fic would never have happened.

# A Whole Month of Detention

 

“You punched him?”

“I prefer to see it as he head-butted my fist…”

“Head-butting only works if I’m the one that’s moving, Tasha.”

“Do you want another black eye, Barton?”

“Not particularly?”

“Then _don’t call me Tasha!”_

The red head curls flew around the girl’s head as she whipped around to glare at the smug boy sitting in the principal’s office beside her. The black eye was blooming nicely around his left eye and she felt a deep satisfaction at knowing she put it there.

“Miss _Romanoff_ ,” Principal Fury regained the two teens attention with a open-palm slap to his desk. “Seeing as how _you_ punched Mr Barton, I’m going to have to give you at detention as well as him.”

“BUT SIR!”

“No buts.” Fury held up a hand to silence her. “Friday in the library. _Don’t_ be late.”

He waved his hands to show the teens that they were dismissed. They rose, Natasha stalking out before Clint. She needed to get away from him. He’d just placed a mark on her basically flawless record. Of course there _was_ the blemish where she had kicked Tony Stark in the balls back in sophomore year, but after Fury heard what he’d said to her to warrant that reaction Fury decided detention wasn’t worth it. Stark definitely had it coming.

“Tasha, wait…”

“I’m serious about the eye Barton. Call me Tasha again and I will hit you.” She called flippantly over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry you got detention but it’s entirely your fault.” He came to a sudden halt as Natasha had stopped short.

“ _My_ fault?” Her voice was dangerously low and anyone who knew the girl well (and let’s face it, that list of people was basically Clint and perhaps her Chemistry partner Steve Rogers,) knew they were in trouble. Her green eyes narrowed and she pivoted on her feet so she faced him. “How exactly is you yelling out in the middle of class ‘ _No I will not make out with you’_ , _my_ fault?”

“Well it was a joke… you didn’t have to hit me.” Clint brought his fingertips up to the blackening eye she’d sucker punched.

“You were being an ass.”

“And hitting me was uncalled for.”

“How else will you learn to not be an ass if I don’t hit you?”

“I’m not that bad! You’re just fun to irritate.”

Natasha wrinkled her nose and raised an eyebrow. “Are you mentally deficient, Barton? People avoid me, not irritate me.” Her voice was low again. “This detention is entirely your fault. Stay away from me, Barton.” She turned abruptly on her heels and strode off down the hallway.

Barton stared after her long enough to watch her backside disappear around a corner before he let out a breath. Detention may have just been worth it to spend the time with her.

* * *

 

Natasha grumbled silently to herself as she placed her books in her locker after her final class on Friday. She was here until 5. Three hours of scraping gum off the bottom of the library tables and re-organising the stacks awaited her. She cursed Clint Barton in her native Russian tongue and slammed her locker shut.

“Woah, who’s annoyed you?” Steve Rogers, her chemistry lab partner and locker neighbour, noticed her foul mood immediately.

“Clint Barton.” She hissed through gritted teeth.

“The Hawk?”

“What?” She raised an eyebrow in confusion.  
“The kid is always in the trees, watching everything like a hawk…” Steve rubbed the back of his head. “It’s lame but it’s what the guys call him in the locker room…”

“Of course.” Natasha nodded, politely pretending to understand boys and their logic. “He earned me a detention.”

“I heard you repaid him with a pretty sweet black eye though.” Steve grinned. “What he’d say to deserve that?”

Natasha wrinkled her nose. “He stood up in the middle of Hill’s English class and yelled out ‘ _No I will not make out with you’_. Like I’d propositioned him or something.” She cracked her neck and took a deep breath. Steve burst out laughing.

“Oh I wish I’d been there.”

“Shut up, Rogers.” Natasha growled, sweeping her bag over her shoulder to stalk away from the tall jock. His hand wrapped around her arm to stop her. He was only one of two who would ever get away with that. The second person she was currently pissed with.

“Nat! Ok, ok I’m sorry… It’s not… not funny.” Steve tried to sound convincing but ended up snorting again.

“It’s not! It was humiliating… and irritating!” Natasha frowned.

“I know. I’m sorry. No more laughing.” Steve coughed and shook himself. “You gotta give the guy credit though… he’s got guts.”

Natasha’s lips twitched in amusement. Steve was right. Clint was brave; no other boy would _ever_ dare try that with her. No other boy dared try anything with her, not even talking. She was by nature, stand offish, choosing to be alone than around people. When she’d first arrived at Homeland High people tried to befriend her, but they quickly labelled her as a freak and left her to herself. She didn’t mind. It was how she liked it. “C’mon, I’ll walk you to the library. I’m meeting Peggy by her car anyway and she usually parks this side of campus.”

Natasha nodded and the two started toward her detention.

“He has no brains I swear.” Natasha rolled her eyes after a moment. “I don’t understand why though. I can’t be that fun to irritate, especially when there’s grievous bodily harm on the cards.”

“Maybe he’s sweet on you?” Steve suggested, closing his own locker.

Natasha let out a loud HA, the closest she’d gotten to a laugh all day. “What on Earth makes you say that?”

“I don’t know… guys tend to tease the girls they like… especially if you ignore them the way you ignore Barton.” He nodded toward the library. “Maybe he just doesn’t know any other way to get your attention.”

“But I _ignore_ him. Why the hell would he like me if I ignore him?” Natasha’s frown was deep on her face, distorting her features.

“I don’t know… You are pretty Nat, when you’re not frowning like that…” Steve nudged her and Natasha glanced at him in surprise. “Don’t look at me like that, I can’t be the first person to tell you you’re attractive.” Steve chuckled.

But he was. No one had really gotten close enough to Natasha to tell her so. She didn’t say anything as they stopped at the doors to the library.

“Thanks for walking me.”

“No worries. Have a good detention… and try not to kill the Hawk. I hear the archery team needs him for a meet on Sunday.” Steve grinned and waved a hand, disappearing in search of his girlfriend.

Natasha drew a deep breath and opened the glass doors. She found Barton perched on the back of a chair, his feet on the seat.

“Was that Steve Rogers walking you to detention?” He asked, one eyebrow raised as he studied her.

“Yes.” She nodded once, dropping into a seat on the other side of the room to him. He jumped off the seat, followed her and took up a chair three away. She shot him a withering look and then rested her head on her bag.

“Why?”

She sighed and sat up. Clearly from the way he was staring intently at her he wasn’t giving up soon.

“Why what?” She asked.

“Why was he walking you?”

Natasha frowned. “I don’t know, because we were talking?”

“About what?”

“ _None_ of your business.” Natasha rolled her eyes, refusing to play his game.

“I just wanna know… I mean that’s Steve Rogers. He’s like, royalty around here and I thought he had a girlfriend?” Clint continued like Natasha wasn’t trying to kill him with her eyes.

“He does. Her name is Peggy.”

“Yeah Peggy Carter. I know. My point is why was he walking with you?”

“What does it even matter?” Natasha snapped finally, her temper rising. Only Clint was able to make her go from sub zero to a thousand degrees in a second. Normally she had a pretty good lid on it but not around Clint Barton. She didn’t understand how someone could get under her skin so bad.

“Oh it doesn’t…” Clint shrugged, sliding down the seat until he was seated normally. He leant back, watching her closely. “It just intrigued me because I never see you with anyone. Ever.”

“You watch me?” Natasha raised her eyebrow at him.

“I might.” He shrugged flippantly again. “C’mon Tasha… do you like him? Is that why you talk to him and no one else? Because big, strong, Rogers is a little bit good looking and you like him?”

“No.” She glowered, standing abruptly. She pointedly glared at Clint and stalked as far away from him as she could before dropping back into a seat.

He of course didn’t take the hint and before she could even blink he was seated two chairs away from her. She ground her teeth, damning him and Fury to the depths of hell. Clint opened his mouth to talk but was interrupted before he got the chance to irritate her further.

“Miss Romanoff, Mr Barton?” Vice Principle Coulson addressed both of them in his quiet and easy voice. He held up and read from an A4 piece of paper. “You will be here till 5 and will be required to scrape gum off of the under side of tables and seats,” He placed a bucket with the relevant equipment on the table in front of them. “You will also reorder and place these books back on the shelves for the librarians.” He tapped a trolley cart full of books by his side. Coulson folded the paper and placed it in his pocket. “I will be in the office over there. There will be no cell phones, no talking and no ipods. 5 oclock.” He tapped his watch and then left the two teens.

Natasha stood and positioned herself behind the trolley of books. “You do the gum and I’ll do the books. Don’t talk to me.” She ordered.

Clint shrugged and picked up the bucket of de-gumming supplies. “That’s fine. I doubt Steve would want me to talk to you anyway.”

Natasha didn’t bother to come up with a retort; instead she bent her head and started sorting through the books.

By some sort of miracle, Clint stayed quiet. Twice Natasha even had to look over to see if he was still there. He was of course, bent over a chair scraping gum off of the bottom. He had the sleeves of his school uniform rolled up past his elbows and Natasha couldn’t help but notice the definition in them. She wondered briefly if archery could create such a nice look, or if he did something else to make them so defined but she quickly decided she didn’t care when he glanced over and caught her watching. The slow, sly grin that crossed his mouth was enough to boil her blood again, especially in her face.

The first hour ticked by slowly and the piled of books Natasha had sorted grew higher. She rubbed her eyes and stretched, resting with the palms of her hands on the table.

Again, she glanced around to see where Clint had gone. He was rather quiet and it made her apprehensive. What had she done to finally make him stop talking and possibly disappear? He hadn’t, however and she found him under a table, his back to the floor, scraping gum off the underside. His shirt had ridden up and Natasha couldn’t help but notice the soft, dark blonde hair that trailed down the front of his abdomen. He had definition there too and she wracked her brain trying to remember him mentioning a sport other than Archery he played that would keep him in such good shape.

“You know, you’d hit me if I stared at you like that.” His voice made her jump and she quickly picked up a pile of books. Her face burned at being caught staring him again.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She murmured as he slid out from under the table. He sat up, a smirk on his features.

“Tasha…”

“Don’t call me Tasha, Barton.” She sighed, rolling her eyes and heading for the stacks.

“Why exactly don’t you like ‘Tasha’?” Clint’s voice came from the other side of the bookcase. Natasha could see his eyes across from her. She’d never noticed what a strange shade of blue and grey they were. He winked and she looked away. If there was one thing she could give him credit for it was that he was persistent.

“I just don’t. My name is Natasha. If my name was Tasha or Nat my parents would have called me that.” She shrugged a shoulder and returned to placing books on the shelf. She did it strategically so that it covered up gaps that he was watching her through.

“Yeah but it’s a nickname. A term of endearment. My name isn’t Clint but everyone calls me that anyway.”

“They also call you Hawk.” She pointed out. She reached the end of the shelf and came face to face with Clint. He was frowning.

“Who does?”

“People,” She waved her hand.

His face cracked into a smile and she noticed that his eyes crinkled in the corners when he did so. “I like it.”

“You would.” She sighed, tucking a stray curl over her ear. “I don’t know why I don’t like Tasha.” She answered him honestly. “Maybe it’s just you because Steve calls me Nat all the time.”

A flicker of something crossed Clint’s face and he turned abruptly away from her, disappearing into the stacks. Her eyebrow twitched at that response and she herself returned to her pile of books.

He was bent over another chair when she found him, concentrating hard on such a menial task. Her brain started to tick over, thinking back on what Steve had said in the hall. Maybe he did like her and that’s why he was always bugging her. He wasn’t necessarily mean he was just _there_ , an irritating presence that always seemed to be around.  His reaction to the knowledge she was friends with Steve was interesting too. It was almost as if he were jealous.

“Can I ask you something?” Natasha approached him, her arms folded across her.

“Sure?” He turned, looking surprised.

“Why are you so persistent?”  

“What?”

“Persistent. You. Even when I punch you in the face you still don’t take the hint to leave me alone.” She gestured to the bruise under his eye. She actually felt a little bad about her reflex reaction now.

“I don’t know? Because it’s funny. You don’t talk to anyone, or so I thought; apparently you’re pretty chummy with Rogers,” he scowled. “I just figured that if I bugged you enough you’d eventually talk to me.”

“To insult you.”

“Talking is talking.” He shrugged. “But if you really want me to leave you alone, I will.”

 

“I don’t believe that for a second.” Natasha laughed out loud, catching herself off guard in the joke. Clint cracked a smile.

* * *

 

“Then why were you holding the slingshot, Miss Romanoff?” Fury rubbed his temples as Natasha and Clint sat in front of the principal’s desk for the second time in as many weeks.

“Because the idiot handed it to me before he climbed through the damn window.” Natasha replied through gritted teeth, seething at Clint. She was in trouble _again_ because of him. She knew she should have just walked away when she heard the glass break but her curiosity had won her over and she’d discovered Clint up a tree, breaking the home economics window so he could steal some cookies and milk.

“This looks bad Miss Romanoff. You realise I’m going to have to give you another detention for this.”

“Seriously?” He voice took the deathly quiet tone and Clint cringed. He would pay for that later.

“Miss Hill said you where there too. You’re as equally guilty as Mr Barton.” Fury shrugged unapologetically. “Friday, after school. Same as last time.” Fury dismissed them and Natasha was on her feet fast.

Clint was hot on her heels, an apology on his lips.

She stopped and spun around once they were in the hallway and he skidded in his beat up converse.

“You are dead. _Dead_. I have a flawless record and you’re _ruining_ it.” She hissed through her teeth. Her green eyes were flashing and Clint was worried about his face.

“Awh come on Tasha, it’s just a detention.”

She glowered a moment longer, a string of curses on her lips. She sucked in a deep breath, swore at him in Russian and then turned around to stalk down the corridor once more.

* * *

 

Natasha slammed her locker with such force Steve’s beside her rattled.

“You ok, Nat?”

“Peachy.” She replied. “Barton got me _another_ detention.” She shot Steve a look. “Don’t even think about laughing.”

“I heard you were sneaking into the home ec room together?”

“HE was sneaking in. I was just an idiot in the wrong place at the wrong time. Miss Hill caught us JUST after the moron tossed me that stupid slingshot of his. It was in my hand.” She shot Steve another look as she snorted. “Do _not_ laugh.”

Steve grabbed his bag and scooped hers up as well.

“C’mon. Let’s walk you to juvie; I mean, detention.” He corrected himself with a snort and Natasha sent a solid punch into his bicep. Steve barely flinched. As they got close, Natasha could see Clint through the glass doors. He was watching them, she could tell.

“Hey, Rogers…” She said when they got to the door. “Can you do me a favour and hug me?”

“I’m sorry?” Steve raised an eyebrow wondering what she was up to. Natasha Romanoff had never once asked for, or taken, a hug in the entire two years they’d been lab partners. He knew there was some form of friendship between them but he’d never wanted to push his luck and try for anything else. Besides, he was crazy about Peg and had been since before Natasha had even started at Homeland High.

“I’m testing a theory; Hug me.” She insisted. Steve wrapped his large arms around her small frame for a second and then pulled away.

“You’re not going to tell me your theory are you?” He sighed as she took her bag from his hands.

“Nope. Say hi to Peggy from me.” She waved a hand and entered the library. Clint was glowering.

“ _Hugging_?”

“I’m sorry?” She feigned ignorance and sat across the room from him.

“He hugged you.”

“So?”

“You don’t hug people.”

Natasha raised her eyebrows at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had an instruction manual on what I do and don’t do.”

Clint jumped off the back of the chair he was sitting on and joined her at the table she was at. He sat backward on the chair this time, his head resting on his arms across the back.

“No I mean, I just didn’t think that hugging was a particularly _you_ thing to do… with your whole ‘I’m a loner’ attitude.” He waved a hand over her as if showing her off to prospective buyers.

“You know, sometimes I wonder why I ignore you… than you open your mouth and I suddenly remember.” She sighed. Coulson arrived, clearing his throat to silence them.

“Again?” He raised an eyebrow at Natasha.

“His fault, again.”

“Right. Well you know the drill. Gum and books.” He dropped the bucket on the table and kicked the cart with the toe of his shoe. “No phones, no talking, no music. 5 pm.”

“Yeah, I got it.” Clint murmured, standing. He stretched and untucked his shirt in the process. Natasha couldn’t help but glance over as his shirt rode high on his stomach. “Like what you see, sweetheart?” He smirked when he noticed her watching.

“Ugh” She wrinkled her nose. “I think I prefer ‘Tasha’ over sweetheart.” She stood and went to the book cart. Out of the corner of her eye he was loosening the school tie and unbuttoning his top buttons. A small shiver passed through her and she turned her attention on the books.

“So does Rogers' girlfriend know you guys are close.” It seemed that Clint had decided to start de-gumming the tables closest to her and wasn’t going to leave her in happy silence this detention.

“I guess.” Natasha nodded.

“You guess? Isn’t that kind of something his girlfriend should know?”

“If she trusts him then she’s got nothing to worry about.” She shrugged.

“ _Does_ Peggy have something to worry about?” Clint was watching her closely when she glanced down at him. His sleeves were rolled up again and she could see his sinewy forearms clearly. She had to look away from the distraction to answer him.

“I don’t think so.” Natasha shook her head. Clint raised an eyebrow.

“Well you either do or you don’t…”

“Why do you even care?” Natasha asked casually.

“Because I hear Peggy is a nice girl.”

“And I’m nice too.”

“Sweetheart you’re about as nice as a sledge hammer to the balls.” Clint snorted, scraping gum off the table. He grunted at a particularly hard piece.

Natasha narrowed her eyes and picked up a stack of books. She kicked his thigh as she stepped around him and he let out a yell.

“Oops?”

Clint let out a snort and shook his head. Tasha’s lips twitched as she disappeared into the stacks to put away the pile of books.

“I’m sorry I got you this detention.” Clint’s voice made her jump as he appeared on the other side of the shelves. His steel-grey eyes watched her between the books, intense as they met her gaze.

“No you’re not.” She laughed. “It’s pay back for me punching you.”

“Yeah but I deserved that.”

“No arguments here.” Natasha actually smiled for once and Clint cracked a grin.

“I knew you could do it.” He pointed a finger through a gap.

“Do what?” Natasha asked.

“Smile”

They reached the end of their aisles and turn to face one another, stopping short toe to toe. She never realised he was actually taller than her by almost a head and his nose appeared to be speckled with a fine dusting of freckles. There was a blonde shadow of whiskers over his chin and cheeks and they made a scratching noise when he rubbed his palm against them.

"but Rogers, really?" He pulled a face.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Are you jealous, Barton?"

"No!" He shook his head once. "Why would you ask that?"

"Oh I don't know... You look a little green..." Tasha smirked, waving her hand in his general direction before turning away from him.

"Nope. I'm not jealous of the big, muscly, good-looking, sports star at all." Clint muttered as he followed her. "At _all_..." He sighed, picking up his scraper again.

Natasha heard him muttering to himself and she smiled. So far, her theory was being backed up by substantial evidence.

Clint Barton was jealous of Steve Rogers.

* * *

 

“No detention today?” Steve asked as Natasha closed her locker softly for once.

“Nope.” She smiled and hoisted her backpack over her shoulders. “Haven’t seen Barton all week so he hasn’t had the chance to get me into trouble.”

“Ah, avoidance. Always a good strategy. Which way you headed?” Steve closed his own locked and placed a baseball cap on his head.

“This way.”

“Wanna walk with me? I have practice.”

“Sure.” Natasha nodded. They walked in silence for a minute before she spoke again. “You know, I think you might be right about Barton being into me.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve raised his eyebrows. “What makes you say that?” Natasha rarely agreed with anything anyone said without proof first. He wondered if Clint had tried something in detention. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen The Hawk around campus much this past week either. “You didn’t hurt him did you?” Steve asked before Natasha could replied.

“What?” she laughed, glancing up to find Steve’s worried expression waiting for a serious response. “No!”

“I was just asking. You’re agreeing with me and Barton hasn’t been around much this week… Just putting two and two toget– OW!” He rubbed his arm where A well-placed punch had connected with his bicep. “What made you agree with me then?”

“He was jealous that you walked me to detention both times… and that we hugged.”

“Oh?” Steve’s eyebrows furrowed. “He knows I have a girlfriend, right?”

“Yup.” She nodded. “He was still jealous though. I thought it was amusing.”

“Is this why you wanted a hug?”

The sounds of a fight met their ears and they glanced at each other for a second before taking off toward the noise. They found it in the car park where a ring of kids were already there, clapping and chanting to egg on the people at the centre.

“Alright break it up.” Steve pushed through the crowd, trying to disperse the onlookers. “You.” He grabbed one kid by the collar. “Go and get Principal Fury or Vice Principal Coulson.”  The kid nodded rapidly before taking off.

Natasha eyed off the fight happening at the centre of the frenzy.

“COME ON STANE, PICK ON SOMEONE YOUR OWN SIZE YOU ASSHOLE AND LEAVE THE KID ALONE!”

“STAY THE HELL OUT OF IT BARTON. IT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.”

“THE HELL IT’S NOT. THE KID IS 12!”

Natasha pushed through the crowd and saw Clint standing toe to toe with the senior Obadiah Stane who had to be the meanest, nastiest bully in the entire high school. Clint would be flattened if he didn’t move soon. Stane was 2 feet taller than Clint and three feet wider, with fists like mallets just waiting to flatter the smaller boy.

“GET OUT OF MY FACE, BARTON.”

“Clint, get out of there.” Natasha murmured. She rose to the balls of her feet, loosening her limbs, in case Clint needed help. No one knew she could actually fight. She’d been trained since she could walk in several forms of hand to hand combat and that combined with her gymnastics skills made her very quick and very hard to beat. Stane would never see her coming if she needed to get involved. Normally she wouldn’t get involved but this was Clint. Only she could wail on Clint.  

“NOT UNTIL YOU GIVE THE KID HIS MONEY BACK, YOU GIANT ASSHOLE.”

“WHAT’D YOU CALL ME?!”

There was a sickening thud as Obadiah’s fist met Clint’s face. Blood spurted from Clint’s nose almost immediately as he fell like a tonne of bricks to the pavement.

Natasha didn’t hesitate as she launched herself into the fight. She landed a left hook on Obadiah’s jaw and an uppercut under his chin before he even had a chance to process what was going on. A swift kick to the centre of his chest had him on his back before he could utter another word.

Natasha breathed heavily before dropping to her knees beside Clint.

“Are you ok?” She ignored the gaping looks from people around them and stared intently at Clint.

Kids around them cheered. If they didn’t know who she was before, they certainly did now.

“Did you just flatten Stane?” Clint asked in disbelief, his words slurred. “Or am I dead?”

Natasha didn’t respond as she tugged his hand away from his face. His eye was swelling rapidly and it would be a lovely shade of puce in about 10 minutes. His nose was also dripping blood but thankfully didn’t look broken.

“MISS ROMANOFF! MY OFFICE. NOW!” Principal Fury hollered over the din of the kids. Everyone went quiet, scattering quickly.  Steve stepped into Fury’s path, talking rapidly, coming to Natasha’s defence.

“Sir, Obadiah started everything. He punched Clint Barton first, Natasha was just –”

“That will be taken into consideration, Rogers. Move along.” Fury held his hand up to silence Steve and glared down at Natasha. “My office. _Now._ ”

Natasha sighed, realising exactly what was coming.

“Well shit Barton. You just got me _another_ detention.” She rolled her eyes before getting to her feet to walk to her doom.

* * *

 

Monday afternoon Natasha stopped 6 feet from her locker and stared at the boy leaning against it. His eyes and nose were fantastic shades of purples and greens and there was even a flourish of a bruise across his prominent jaw.

“What do you want?” She raised an eyebrow as she approached slowly.

“To walk you to detention?” He shrugged. “I feel bad for getting you this one.”

“You damn well should.” She snapped, shoving him to the side before cracking her combo. “You should know better than to take on Stane.”

“You weren’t even there, he was going to beat that poor kid up over a lousy 20 bucks!” Barton whined and secretly Natasha could help but feel proud that he’d stood up for something. She hadn’t known what had come over her but as soon as Clint went down she got mad. Mad enough to defend him anyway. She felt like she needed to protect the one boy who had stuck through all her insults and put-downs. “How bad did we get it?

“Every afternoon for the next 4 weeks.” She sighed, glancing at his use of the word ‘we’. “But it’s better than being suspended like Obadiah.”

“Fury let you off easy then.” Clint smiled.

“Easy enough. He knew Obadiah started it, and I was just defending you.”

“Ah yes, why _did_ you defend me?”

“Because only I’m allowed to beat you up.” Natasha remarked, smiling despite being mad about the detention. She closed her locker with a snap and greeted the approaching Steve.

“Hey.” He smiled. “Off to detention?”

“Yup. Every afternoon for the next 4 weeks.”

“And all your fault.” Steve laughed at Clint. The Hawk just nodded and Natasha noticed tightness in his jaw. She rolled her eyes. “Want me to walk you?” Steve asked, oblivious to the feelings of the other boy.

“No” Clint answered at the same time as Natasha said

“Sure.” She glanced at him exasperated. Clint ignored her and continued.

 “ _No,_ I got this man. You go find your _girlfriend_.” He emphasised the word.

Natasha and Steve exchanged a look, before Steve bid a casual “Alright, see ya _Tasha_.” and walked off down the hall. Natasha turned to Clint who was already staring at her.

“What?” She raised an eyebrow.

“No ‘ _don’t call me Tasha’_? No ‘ _my name is Natasha, stop calling me that asshat’_?” Clint sounded annoyed. “He gets to call you Tasha without a single protest?” He asked when she just stared blankly at him.

“It’s Steve.” Natasha shrugged, hoisting her backpack higher on her shoulder.

“Oh yeah, _it’s Steve_ ” He mimicked, rolling his eyes. He tried to tug the bag off her. She held it in a vice grip.

“Do you have a problem with Steve?” She asked, her stare turning into an unwavering glare.

“None at all.” Clint shook his head. “Will you give me your bag?”

“No.” Natasha shook her head and started walking away from him.

“Why?”

“Because I can carry my bag, Barton.” She snapped. “Why are you walking me?”

“I’m coming to detention.”

“Why?” She frowned. She didn’t know anyone who would voluntarily take a detention.

“It’s my fault you got it and I technically started the fight with Obadiah –”

“Damn right you did.” Tasha muttered.

“SO I thought to make it up to you I’ll keep you company.”

“Are you going to be an ass the whole time?” She asked.

“When have I been an ass recently?” He looked surprised and Natasha wasn’t sure if it was genuine or not.

“Uh how about toward Steve? You were a total asshat and you were also a little green… jealous perhaps?”

“I wasn’t an asshat, or an ass.” He huffed as he pushed open the library door. “And I’m not jealous.”

“Lie of the year.” Natasha mumbled. “Seriously you can go.” She dropped her bag on the now familiar desk where she’d served the past three detentions and sat. Clint sat on a seat beside her, facing her. Natasha could feel his blue-eyed gaze on her face and it took all of her will-power not to turn and look at him.

“Seriously, I’m staying.” He shrugged. “And I wasn’t being an ass.”

“But you _are_ jealous?” She countered, giving him a side-long glance of indifference.

He grunted a reply and Natasha turned to look at him finally. His steel blue eyes were still trained on her and once capture she couldn’t look away. “Why on earth would you be jealous of Steve?” She asked. He set his jaw and didn’t reply. “Clint?” She pressed when he didn’t respond. He was studying her, scanning her face from top to bottom as if it would answer whatever question was floating around in his mind. She felt naked under that stare; she honestly couldn’t remember the last time anyone had looked at her, really looked at her, with such depth in their expression. She felt like he was reading her and she was strangely ok with that feeling.

“I don’t know,” He replied quietly, finally dropping his gaze. “maybe because he seems to find it so fucking easy to get a smile out of you and I get punched in the face?”

Natasha stared at him, not sure how to answer that. She literally had no smartass response to his honesty.

“You two again?” Coulson interrupted the teens as he approached.  Tasha jumped in surprise as his voice brought her back to earth with a thud. “My paperwork only says Natasha. Which is surprising.” He glanced at the girl who just shrugged.

“Again, his fault.” She muttered quietly.

“I’m meant to be on there, sir. I started the fight.” Clint grunted.

“No he’s not. He was defending someone. I was the one who knocked Obadiah out.” Natasha shook her head. “Make him go.”

“I started the fight and if I hadn’t you wouldn’t have hit him and you wouldn’t have got this detention. It’s my fault, I should be here serving it too.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong though.”

“Egging on Obadiah till he hits me is wrong.”

“Stupid, not wrong. _Stupid_.”

“Alright ENOUGH!” Coulson exclaimed, looking between the two teens. “Barton if you really want to serve the detention so badly, _stay_. I don’t care. Rules are the same as always however and here is the bucket for the gum.” Coulson dropped the bucket on the table and shook his head, muttering something about crazy teenagers.

Once he was gone, Clint snatched up the bucket and crawled under the desk that was to the left of their table. 

Natasha picked up the books off the cart and the two fumed in silence.

Finally, Clint broke the silence.

“What is it about Steve that makes you talk to him?” He asked, sitting up on the floor to look up at her.

“What?” She asked, eyebrows raised.

“I try so hard to be your friend, when most others else blatantly ignore you I’m the one that gets punched or insulted or kicked or ignored… and Steve Rogers is the one that gets the smiles and the laughs and the fun and carefree Natasha I know is in there.”

Natasha put down the book she was holding and leant her hip against the table. Clint looked so... _vulnerable_ , staring up at her like a dog who’d been kicked. He really did try, albeit the wrong way, to be her friend and get her attention but she liked the banter they had. She liked that he had a two second re-bound rate and was back doing the next asshole thing toward her in a snap. She liked that she could punch and kick and scream and he’d be there if she ever needed him. She never did but she knew he would be. Like right now. He didn’t have to be in the detention, scrubbing fresh gum off the bottom of tables, but he was for her. To keep her company so she wouldn’t be alone.

 “You _are_ my friend, Barton. I like how it is with us. It’s… it’s fun and I can be me.” She smiled and folded her arms. “I’m nice to Rogers because he’s nice to me. It’s not my natural personality to be ‘ _fun and carefree_ ’” She quoted with her fingers. “But I can be with him because that’s who _he_ is. I adapt my personality to the one that fits best. But with you, I’m exactly who I am because that is exactly who you areI don’t need to adapt. ” She shrugged and turned away, picking up an arm load of books to take to the stacks.

She didn’t hear him on the other side of the bookcase but she knew he was there. She could sense him watching her through the gaps in the books and when she stepped around the far end of the stack, he was there.

They stood toe to toe, watching each other, sizing each other up. His eyes burned her skin where they landed and again she felt naked. But like before she didn’t mind.

This was Clint, _her_ Clint, and in some deep down place she never knew existed she liked him too.

“I guess you could say you’re my best friend, Clint.” Her lips twitched as she took a step closer. Clint’s hands hesitated above her hips. He was probably wondering if he’d lose a finger if he actually touched her, so with a smile she placed her hands on his and pushed them against her skin.

As soon as his skin came in contact with the small amount of flesh above her skirt, he swooped in and planted his lips against hers as if at any moment she’d shove him away and give him a second black eye to match the first.

She sighed, relishing in the feeling, and pressed herself into him. He held her tight, deepening the kiss between them.  The tip of his tongue flicked against her lips and she reciprocated, opening her mouth to grant him access. She sighed, a pleasant sound that left her lungs free from air.

Finally, she pulled away, but clung to him not wanting to move any further apart. She liked the weight of his hands on her hips and how her face rested neatly against his chest. She looked up and found him already watching her.  

“Well that was a game move, Barton.” She murmured, a smirk crossing her lips.

“I’m waiting for you to hit me.” Clint admitted. She laughed, throwing her head back.

“Who say’s I’m not going to?”

Clint was smiling when she righted herself. “Oh I know you will… so I’m going to make the most of this moment by doing this...” He moved his hands from her hips to her lower back and secured her against his body. He dipped his head and kissed her once more. Her arms threaded up and around his neck, her fingers running through the short, soft hair just above his neck. She felt him shiver and she smiled into the kiss.

Vaguely she heard someone clear their throat but it took the two a few seconds to realise it had happened.

Natasha pushed Clint away hastily and ran a hand through her hair when she realised Vice Principal Coulson was watching them. His arms were folded and his foot was tapping but he had a bemused expression on his face like he’d been expecting this to happen.

“I’m not surprised.” He said finally. “However, Mr Barton, you now do have detention. A whole month of it starting now.” He held out the bucket to Clint. “Back to work.”

Clint glanced at Natasha.

“Oh what a shame. A whole month of detentions.” He winked at her, his face cracking into the most devilish grin she’d ever seen.

Natasha could help that the one that crossed her own features matched it. Marking her record with detentions was the best thing she’d done in a long time.

End. 

 

 


End file.
